Dog Eat Dog World
by aequilo.xx
Summary: Wammy's is, in simple English, corrupt. The children will do anything to acheive the number 1 spot, including resulting to physical and emotional torture...and the Wammy caretakers just let it happen. ON HOLD
1. Prolouge

**author's note.xx**

This is my first fanfiction that I intend to complete and/or release to the public. Reviews are greatly appreciated, I really haven't had anyone review my work in any way shape or form other than my teachers who are amazed that I have basic literacy skills in the 7th grade. / So I have to write stuff for class, i.e. speeches and other things of no great importance. Please be honest.

Side note: This is from Matt's point of view ;) And this is just the prologue, so it's really short.

**P R O L O U G E;**

I stared, bored, at the pristine white walls holding me back. My silver Gameboy Advance SP lay, forgotten, at the foot of my full-sized bed with standard-issue white sheets. I sighed. _I hate this place…_I thought with malice, now glaring at the walls that hadn't changed in the 12 years I had been ensnared in them. I vaguely wished they would fall down, crumble under my intense green-eyed glaze—but who am I kidding? They were always going to be there, taunting me. Teasing me. _The outside world is so…out of reach..._I thought to myself.

I was lying on my stomach on my bed. My nose almost touched the wall, I was so close. My plain white tee-shirt and jeans were symbols for the lack of freedom I gave myself. Anything different attracted attention, and that was the last thing I wanted here.

I hadn't ever been outside the _protection_ of the hell-hole, Wammy's Institute for Gifted Children, the first of my kind to exist here, being born into it. I was brought to life by a 13 year old girl named Mar, another first—she was raped within the orphanage walls, presumably, and died within them giving birth to her child. I smirked bitterly. _Serves the girl right, not getting an abortion when given the opportunity. _

I flopped over on my side, snuggling underneath the sheets. It must have been 3 am or later; me, being an insomniac, didn't really ever get to sleep before then, no matter how much I tried. It mainly spurred from fear—one of these days someone will figure out my secret that I really was pretty damn intelligent, not that I let it show. I grimaced. If I let it show and my 15th ranking was elevated, I would pay with my sanity.

That's just what you get when trapped in an orphanage of geniuses, many of them formerly abused or neglected, and usually downright terrified of everything so strange phobias were thrown into the mix. Everyone wanted to be on top; being on top meant a guaranteed a life of wealth as "L". Mind-games and emotional torture were not uncommon here--sometimes it got to the point of physical abuse—even though Wammy's prides itself in being high-security, equipped with cameras, bugs, and the like, although it never really stopped the abuse because no one thought that the geniuses could be violent...I laughed humorously. They tried to scare you out of performing well in classes, trick you into believing you were an idiot with clever illusions, lies...anything to get you to back down from acheiving the life of a wealthy detetective--the life that was up for grabs to around 100 former street rats that were _intelligent._

Some people would fucking do _anything _to be on top. Every last child at Wammy's knew that they would be kicked out at age 18, their mooching days over. Most of them went back to a life on the streets, not knowing how to fend for themselves otherwise. It was sad, really; all of the potential wasted. Mainly though, it was because the main goal at Wammy's was to find L's successor…not give a child a second chance at life. They didn't teach how to survive here...and of course, it was completely secret to outsiders, so basically, no word got out that precious IQ points were being wasted. No one could use the geniuses--recruit them for various jobs. If they did, the world would most likely be a much more advanced place, in all seriousness. And the number of homeless people would drop by a few percents, possibly.

But no. Wammy's didn't care. If your IQ was 140 but you ranked 20th, they could care fucking less.

"Disgusting," I muttered to myself before closing my now-drooping eyes, knowing full well I would just wake up a couple of hours later.

**another author's note.xx**

I know, I know. It wasn't great, there wasn't much detail. But it was necessary to get a bit of information down before the thing really takes off with more chapters and I start using descriptive paragraphs. This is merely facts and Matt's opinions, as of now. If I get a review today (doubt it, but still) I'll try and do the first chapter today. -bribe- Oh yeah, and Mello's coming soon. I just have to illustrate what life is like as a Wammy child before he comes into play.


	2. Chapter One: White

**author's note.xx** Unfortunately I was dragged off to the beach (oh joy) with exactly 45 minutes notice…so sorry it's a bit delayed. (My family has a tiny little condo thing in Alabama that can fit 8 people in 900 square feet and randomly decide that I need socialization…) :O Oh, and thank you guys very very much for the reviews, the favorites, the alerts…they make me extraordinarily happy. So happy they make me want to do cartwheels. And no one wants to see that, now do they. ;)

**disclaimer.xx** No I don't own Death Note, not that you asked.

**C H A P T E R – O N E; **

All of the white was frightening. So much of the color…the "clean", "pure" color that wasn't a color in the first place, but tricked people into believing it was. In a way, the white symbolized Wammy's—white steals color for itself. Takes even the brightest, most vibrant color, mixes it with every other color like it didn't matter, and what was reflected? White. What color could be pure that stole color and manifested it into something under control, something…pure? But, white didn't show the struggle of the colors, each trying desperately to come out on top to overtake the blinding _white_…nor did it show the chaos that ensued, the overwhelming effect pushing together things so different and emitting something completely different. The colors that make up white don't matter anymore—everything about the colors cease to exist.

_Exactly like Wammy's._ I mused. Wammy's smashed a hundred impeccably intelligent children together, ones who were so different, so unique; and caused something entirely different. Keeping all of the little geniuses together caused…a force to be reckoned with. A bloodthirsty, dog-eat-dog force to be reckoned with. Chaos…utter _chaos._ Every color had at least _some_ sense of itself, some sense of itself even while captured in the white. And the small ability it had to recognize it's former self wanted _out._ And that caused _ambition_…

And ambition equals doing whatever it takes to get out on _top._ Achieve that life of fame and fortune. Get that money. _A desire so strange,_ I thought. So, so strange. I had never experienced that kind of _want._ _Maybe it's because I've been trapped here all my life, left to observe it and try not to become that way. Well, it's worked. I have no ambition. I don't care about anyone or anything. Well…except for gaming, but that's different._

I sighed. I really did want to believe in something…exist for _something…_but I just couldn't, dammit! I, in some sick and twisted way, _wanted_ to be like the others. _Wanted_ to care so much as to be so _violent. _

I looked up at my ceiling from my bed. I had been lying on it since I woke up for the first time during the night, at 4am—35 minutes after I had finally coaxed out the long-awaited (and usually non-existent) sleep. The ceiling, as everything else at Wammy's, was _white._

I laughed—a poisoned, humorless laugh at the weird irony of everything, and went back to sleep in a fashion much quicker than I had expected to.

-x-

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! BE—_

I jammed my finger into the alarm clock sitting on my bedside table, ending the obnoxious noise abruptly. The glowing red letters informed me that it was 5:15am.

Time to beat the crowds and be sanitary.

I grunted as I swung my feet out of my bed, wincing slightly at the cold of the tile floor. Which was, indeed, white. Hastily grabbing a change of clothes from the walk-in closet—holding around 10 or so of what it should if a "normal" person inhabited the walls of the room--I walked out of my room. I didn't bother to put on shoes as I stumbled down the long corridor that existed outside of the boy's rooms. At the end was a white door, which, once opened, led up a staircase.

I subconsciously counted the steps as I trotted up, feeling more awake now, and opened the other white door that awaited me on my trek up to the kitchens and showers. _Why the hell do they keep the kitchens and showers together on the same floor?_

It didn't really bother anybody, though. Well, no one except for me, but that's okay. I just preferred to not have penis near my food. But, to each his own, I guess…

I walked through the kitchens, various smells flooding my nose as the cooks prepared for feeding the hooligans breakfast, and opened yet another white door. I was greeted by a white room.

_White, white. White, white. WHITE WHITE WHITE WHITE WHITE! _I screamed in my head, nearly having an emotional breakdown right then and there. _WHY CAN'T WAMMY'S PAINT THINGS BEIGE?! WHY NOT?! WHY MUST THEY HAVE EVERYTHING IN GOD DAMN WHITE!!_ I threw a little hissy fit in my mind for a couple minutes until I calmed down. Somewhat.

Somehow, I maintained enough composure to go open my locker and retrieve my ziplock bag of supplies and walk into the actual boy's shower room. The moment of panic past after a brief bit of hyperventilation, thankfully. Not like the last time I had stayed up a bit at night thinking about white and proceeding to come to the showers.

I cringed slightly as I remembered the day that I had lain on the floor for several hours in fetal position with an 'insane' look on my face and biting through my lip,

until I was found by the other boys and had my arm broken due to being stepped on. _Well, I have more self-control now. I'm not so fragile anymore, I don't let things affect me that way…much. _

I fished out a towel from the large basket containing them and picked the stall I wanted. I hung it up on the bar and got undressed in the showers, discarding my clothes on the bar that held my towel.

I turned on the water, adjusting it with relative ease to the perfect temperature. I let the water fall over me, warming my body and causing angry pink welts to come up on my skin, due to the fact that it was excessively hot. Sighing in relaxation, I let everything that had bothered me previously go down into the drain—along with the filth of living in such a corrupted place.

"Shit." I said as I realized my lack of shampoo. I had left my ziplock by the towel basket. I turned off the water reluctantly, and grabbed my towel—wrapping it around my lower half. Even though I knew no one was going to be awake at this time, I still took the precaution. I really didn't know why, though. Premonition, perhaps? But then I shoved away the thought. _That's silly._ I told myself firmly. Premonition doesn't exist, because I believe in the fact that people make their own choices, nothing is lain out in front of them at the time of birth, you can be who you want, and such. Therefore, premonition could NOT exist.

But I used the towel anyway as I made my way over to where my ziplock was sitting, snatching it up. I looked both ways, feeling somewhat paranoid.

And then I met the blue eyes of a stranger.

"FUCK!"

**another author's note.xx** I love you guys. I hope the white-rant thing didn't make sense. Or at least, not that much sense. :X It wasn't meant to make that much sense. Matt is a strange person (in my eyes), is he not? Oh, and if I make a weird grammar mistake, tell me. Or if I spell something wrong, or do anything stupid in general. OH, and Matt IS insane. Being at Wammy's for his entire life and knowing what was happening with the others effected him differently, but he is still insane. Clearing that up. Urm, please review. :D

**EDIT of the AUTHOR'S NOTE**: I re-read the white-rant thing and I decided that it DID make sense. :D It didn't make sense in my head. XD And Matt isn't insane. He's just acting a tad bit emo. Or so I have decided.

**EDIT OF THE EDIT:** Actually, on a re-read, he isn't acting emo at all D: I like making characters act emo and then poking them. But anyway, emo isn't the right word, and neither is insane. ...confused, maybe. Maybe not confused. Having..issues? Is a bit mentally unstable.

WAIT! MENTALLY UNSTABLE! THAT IS HOW MATT IS ACTING! :D Yay I can classify him now


	3. Chapter Two: GENDER CONFUSION! D:

**author's note.xx** Hi, thanks for the hits, reviews, favorites, and alertsthey make me happy! Urm, I was going to update sooner, but we couldn't afford to pay the phone bill, they got disconnected, and it screwed with the internet XD Anyway, enjoy :D

**disclaimer.xx** If I owned Death Note, L would have been the main character. Until he died, and then it would be Mello as the main character. Or maybe Matt. XD And then when they died, it would have Raito as the main character, so we could see his super-pwnsome laugh that scared the shit out of me. XD In other words, NO I DO NOT OWN DEATH NOTE!

**C H A P T E R – T W O;**

I ran as fast as I could back to the shower stall, my breath edging towards hyperventilation. I turned the water back on quickly, as hot as it could go, and slung my towel back over the rack.

"Traumatizing event number one for today," I mumbled. _Who the hell is that kid? No one comes to the showers this early…actually, you would think they would because common sense tells you that in the morning you'll have more time and hot water, but apparently they suppose everyone comes to the showers early because they all think that way…so you'd have more time later. Which doesn't make sense, because they would have definitely noticed that everyone comes to the showers at a later time…_I thought. _Shit. I can't think about one thing without it leading into another. _I sighed at that fact—for it was pitiful, and it was true.

_Back to the thing that really matters—who the hell is that kid who was in the bathroom? Long blonde hair, blue eyes, wearing black…never seen him before. Or wait, was it a she? _I pondered nervously. New children meant new desperate minds. And that bitch looked _mean._

I reached for my shampoo when I realized that I had dropped it when I was running back to the stall.

-x-

The day passed without conflict, but I did see the blonde boy/girl around—he/she shared Criminal Psychology, Algebra, and Foreign Languages with me. I could feel his/her stares on me all day long, though I never caught him/her looking at me. It also really pissed me off that I had no idea what gender the person was. I mean, he/she had somewhat feminine features and long hair; but the person just screamed male, for whatever reason.

I opened my door, room 18, with my small silver key that I always kept in my back right pocket. "What the fuck?!"

That girl/guy was sitting on the spare bed, sneering at me.

**author's note.xx** Really sorry that it was super-super-super-short (lol), I just decided that was the best place to end the chapter. I have the next chapter somewhat planned out in my head, and I'll put it up tomorrow, or maybe even later today..:D Reviews make me very happy!

3/ilo


	4. Sorry important notice

I have decided to discontinue progress with this fic. I have no idea for the plot. I don't like the way it's going, it's way too predictable. Matt's character is OOC...and I don't really like it that much. I wouldn't read farther than the prolouge, if this wasn't being written by myself.

**This does not mean I will never update this fic again!** I will most likely decide to work on it in a few months when I have ideas for the plot, and am in a marginally better mood than I am now. I am sticking by this decision, as well--I really, really don't want to work on this.

I really don't think that multi-chapters are…my thing, based upon this experience. Sorry if this is disappointing—eh. D: I'll defenately do other oneshot fics, so watch for them please.

aequilo.xx

and please note that I do feel bad about this, because it got good reviews...and I will probably pick it back up later, as I said.


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